Supernaturally Ordinary
by angelofjoy
Summary: A collection of short stories involving primarily Sam and Dean, and involving life off the job. The moments between cases.


**A/N: I've decided to start a collection of short stories involving the boy. I swear I wrote this before I watched this week's episode 'Baby'.**

 **This story is a result of the October Challenge over at The Beta Branch. It is one of my Five Fics for Five Fandoms. The others are all scatter around the other stories on in my collection.**

 **Based on the Prompt:** **_But I'm a vampire smile, you'll meet a sticky end._**

 _Cabin Fever_

With a clatter like thunder, Dean dropped the armload of miscellaneous pieces of wood onto the table in front of his brother. Sam jumped, pulling his attention away from the two-foot-tall stack of books and the open laptop before him. His eyes flicked between the bundled up Dean and the thawing stack.

The brothers had spent days inside the bunker. They'd been followed back across the country by a freak weather system that got them anxious, but they'd it home just in time for the snow to start. It had started lightly at first, painting the world around them in beautiful serenity, but within hours the storm had been upon them.

For two days it had snowed like the end of days and trapped them inside. As the third day had dawned without a sign of stopping, the brothers had started to feel the effects of being trapped inside. The snow had piled high against the door, and on the fourth day Dean had lost sight of Baby all together - only a slightly higher mound betraying her location. The week had closed with blustery conditions in which the boys couldn't tell whether the snow had stopped or if the wind was just relocating it. And finally, on the seventh day, the clouds had parted, the wind had stopped and the sun had begun to warm the earth.

Sam had found solace in the rows and rows of old books within the bunker's library. He'd researched possible cases before giving up the notion all together because of their complete lack of escape. He and Dean were not able to get out, let alone help anyone. So he gave up and broke into subjects that they were familiar with.

Dean, on the other hand, had been the picture of domesticity and it was driving him batty. He had cleaned out the refrigerator, washed the floors and wall, and he had even laundered all of the clothes in the structure - some that didn't even belong to him or Sam. When that was done, he had gone exploring and ventured into parts of the bunker they had never visited. Finding small messes and unknown objects, Dean had been careful to put things right and move on. Hourly he'd checked outside, found the snow still besting him, and he had retreated back indoors.

Thus were their days, until finally - like an excited school boy - Dean had flown out into the snow all bundled up. He'd begun the daunting task of freeing Baby from her snowy tomb and he'd enjoyed every moment of it. Sam had stayed inside, but had made the request of his brother to obtain some materials if he was able to get on the road. He'd had every intention of heading into town, as soon as the car was free, to get supplies and while he was there he picked up the wood for Sam.

"Please, no sacred fires inside the bunker," Sam said with a sigh and turned back to the work he'd been so engrossed in.

Dean laughed out loud at his brother as he removed his coat, scarf, gloves and hat, and laid them on the next table over.

"The ventilation in this place isn't up to par. Maybe it's time for an upgrade, a renovation. Maybe we could brighten it up, put in some windows?" Dean teased.

"Or we could leave it as old and decrepit as we've found it, full of spells, enchantments, and protections, making it the perfect safe house for us," Sam said. "If it's not broke, don't fix it."

"Come on Sammy, you have to stop. We've been cooped up in here too long! If we spent this much time researching every big baddie that we came across, we'd never save any lives. Let's go out. Get back on the road."

"Did you shovel out the car?" Sam asked dryly. "Has the snow even stopped?"

"It has and I did, to get you this, like you asked," Dean said and motioned to the pile on the table. "Are you that out of it that you missed the whole conversation we had before I left?"

"What conversation?" Sam questioned suspiciously.

"The one that started with; 'Sammy, let's go out and play'. It was very one sided. You waved me off and I left."

"I guess I am out of it. But I have been busy, so thanks for the stuff. We need to know what we are up against," Sam said. He returned his attention to the computer and books before him.

"We know what we are up against, for the most part, and all you're looking at are books on Vampires. It's time to put the books away, Sammy, and get outta here."

"Do you want to go out in the snow?" Sam looked at his brother as if he were crazy.

"I've already been out in the snow and it's wonderful! Come on, let's do something fun or get on the road. Anything to get us out of this place for a while," Dean said as he bounced on the balls of his feet. "It's a beautiful day!"

"This snow is strange. So much of it, this far south," Sam mused, ignoring his brother's optimism. "Something is up. It has to have something to do with the Darkness, demons or angels, maybe some ancient god of snow..."

"Or maybe it's global warming, Sam. It can be something simple and normal," Dean said with a huff. "Put the books down. You're making yourself even more paranoid than you already are. Let's go out in search of something, or hell, let's go eat. It's so nice out there, not even that cold. Why don't we go and enjoy it?"

"You can go, I'm going to carry on with this."

"You're becoming a hermit! Are you afraid of the outside world?" Dean teased.

"We have to change, Dean. We can't just sit here and believe that with all that we have seen and done, all that we have stopped, felt, left behind, and ended, that we are exempt from the evolution of the bad that has been our life's work." Sam said with a shake of his head and leaned back in his chair. "The Darkness changes everything."

"I can't just stay here inside, reading all these books and becoming more anxious about what is out there." Dean said and started to pace before his brother. "You know me, Sammy, I need to work. We have to work, that's what we have to do, and like always, we'll find a way or we'll die trying. I'm not about to carry around fifty different kinds of wood, steeped in fifty different kinds of sacred goop, to kill fifty different kinds of vampires just because you don't wanna leave the bunker anymore. You're making excuses."

"I'm not afraid to leave the bunker!"

"Then what? You wanted all this different wood from all over, whatever, fine. I went to the lumberyard and bought you your scraps, but you're not filling the truck of my car with all these. I have to draw the line somewhere. We have what we need to kill vamps. You know it and I know it. Besides, with your luck you'd trip, and meet a sticky end. Get it, sticky?" Dean mocked as he motioned to the pile of wood on the table, with a grin on his face that made him look almost cartoony.

When Sam rolled his eyes, Dean burst with laughter. "Oh come on, Sammy," Dean laughed, "find the common thread. With vamps, let their heads roll. We know it, we've perfected it. We carry around one very sleek weapon and that's all we need. It's effective. Move on. I'd understand if it were stuff we don't know, but man, we know vamps!"

"I'm not worried about vampires, at least not the common North American ones. You're right, we know how do deal with those but we can't assume that the Darkness isn't going to change things," Sam protested as he ran his hands through his hair and continued. "Knowledge is our best weapon, what happens if we come across an Adze?" he asked as he spun a book around and pushed it toward his brother. "According to the lore, there is no defense against an Adze. So what do we do?"

"Cut its head off with a silver blade, just to be safe," Dean answered without even looking at the book.

"The common form of the Adze is a firefly, you'd better bring a really small knife."

Dean pulled the book toward him, "they can take human forms," he read "and they exist in Ghana and Togo. We are not going to come across Adze in America and I'm not going to Africa!"

"If ebola can make it out of Africa, so can the Adze."

"At which time we will wait for it to take a human form and cut off its head, or we can catch them in some jars and you can use them as night lights! 'Cause I know you're afraid of the dark, Sammy," Dean teased. "There, we have a plan. Next baddie?"

Sam shook his head and tugged the book back toward him. "I'm not asking you to help me," he huffed. "If you have cabin fever, then go out. I'm staying in."

"Oh no, because I'm just the brawn. Send Dean out to collect wood because he's no good for anything else. He doesn't have, and never has had, the aptitude for academics."

"I didn't say that!" Sam countered.

"It's implied, I can tell," Dean huffed. "Whatever, there is the wood you asked for, Master. What else you need done?" he added as he mimed Frankenstein's monster and grunted his words.

"Seriously, grow up."

"Seriously, you need to let this go and move on, or at least research something that might happen to cross our paths here in America, or Canada and Mexico, South America at the very farthest because I can actually drive to those places." Dean slapped his hands down onto the table before Sam and leaned in close. "Anything that would have us take a plane to another continent to deal with all the ancient evils over there, no thank you. You know how I feel about flying."

"Yes, I know." Sam nodded and Dean backed off.

"Besides, we have our fair share of creepy crawlies, and if they want me, they can come and get me." Dean straightened himself out again and smoothed down his shirt. "I'm staying within driving distance of good cheese burgers and a cold beer, and that's the end of it."

Sam sighed, closed his laptop and pushed the book away. "You were the one that wanted a break."

"I always say that and how long does it actually last?"

"Not the point, Dean."

"Look, sure, I wanted to take a break," Dean said and his voice was full of frustration. "I wanted to sleep in and make some of my own food. Sure. I did want that. Then the snow started and it wouldn't stop, and we were stuck here again and that's fine. I cleaned. Then it went on for seven days." He added and if he could have grabbed ahold of something to shake it, he would have. "That's way too long for me to be nearly a prisoner." Dean took a deep breath, composed himself and continued, "but now it's stopped and I've gotten outside. I cleaned the car. I liked the shovelling, hell, it almost felt like Christmas, but that is over now and we need to get back to business. I got groceries, so we'll be fed, but I need to get outta this place. I've done all I can think of inside this building. Let's go!" He dramatically motioned up the stairs toward the door but Sam shook his head. "Why not? You're not gonna read every book in this place, even if you live a nice, long life. So, we know where to find them if we need them. Please find me a case and get me outta here, or I'm seriously going to tackle the garage!" He ordered.

"You mean that storage room, the one with the door to Oz?" Sam asked.

"I'm calling it the garage 'cause I found a couple of beauties in all that scrap. I'm pretty sure there's a perfectly good 1934 Ford Roadster and a '36 Dodge Pickup. There's a door in the back too, one that I haven't been able to open 'cause of all the junk in that back room." The excitement returned to Dean - every ounce of him. "I have a feeling there's something else back there and it could be completely evil or it could be an actual workshop. I would kill for a workshop! Maybe there are more cars. I could fix you up something really nice, Sammy." He added with a wink. "You could play whatever you like in your very own Baby!"

"I'm good," Sam said with a sigh and a shake of his head. "You don't need to go to all that trouble, especially seeing as how we go everywhere together and I'm sure you'd rather be the driver."

"This is true," Dean said with a nod. "But Sam, maybe the bunker is actually heaven! If there are cars, I quit, and I'm going to start a family because Baby needs a brother."

"You are not turning the bunker into a scrap yard!"

"Find me a case, baby brother, before I get that door open or an engine running, and you'll be safe."

"This is black mail," Sam accused as he stood before Dean could flee.

"No, it's cabin fever and the ball is in your court," Dean said as he stepped back and away from his brother.. "If I'm cooped up much longer, I'm going to start home reno projects and a classic car museum. Hold on, darlings, Daddy's coming!" he called down a hallway and broke into a run, leaving Sam standing in the common room.

"Dean, seriously, no!" Sam called and rushed after him. "Don't open the door!"


End file.
